


and now, to wake

by celiye



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/F, First Kiss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5195132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celiye/pseuds/celiye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about being best friends your whole life is that maybe you don't realize what's staring you straight in the face. Until you do, and it all comes together like the final puzzle piece sliding into place. Pre-Rising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and now, to wake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucyelfenmaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucyelfenmaid/gifts).



> Thanks for being so patient with my eternal missing of deadlines. I hope this is what you were looking for!

The thump at Jem's window comes late at night, long past the time she was supposed to fall asleep. Jem is only awake because her brain refuses to shut off, unwanted and uncontrolled thoughts swirling too loudly for her to slip into sleep. She almost thinks she imagines the sound at first, but then it comes again, rattles her window in the pane, too insistent to be ignored. 

Reluctantly, Jem slides out of the warm cocoon of her blankets and pulls her window up to peer outside. With only the faint twinkles of starlight acting as illumination, she can’t distinguish anything, but her eyes soon adjust to the darkness and she makes out a familiar head of curly hair below. 

Lisa waves when Jem's eyes finally meet hers, and she motions for Jem to join her. Jem considers for a second, but it isn't a difficult choice - her eyes will be dry and sore all day tomorrow, her forehead stretched tight with the beginnings of a headache, and she would much rather pay for spending time with Lisa than for tracing patterns in the ceiling all night. 

Once Jem props open her window, twisting until she is stepping on the branch just under the window frame is simple enough. The bark scratches lightly against her palms as she climbs down easily, reaching for footholds with the ease of years of practice. 

She jumps down at the final branch, landing in a crouch next to Lisa. "So what do you have planned for tonight?" she asks, brushing dust off her shirt. 

Lisa reaches up to sweep a forgotten leaf from Jem's shoulder. "No big adventure tonight; I thought we could watch the stars and talk," she says. 

Jem smiles ruefully – Lisa always seems to have a sense for when Jem needs her the most. "Lead the way," she says. Lisa reaches over to curl her fingers around Jem's wrist and pull her down the driveway. The warmth from her touch lingers long after Lisa lets go. 

 

They end up sitting in the grass on their hill, wrapped in the quiet that only comes when the whole town is asleep. Jem doesn't know how long they spend like this, sitting comfortably together and enjoying a rare moment of peace. 

Lisa finally breaks the silence. "Do you ever think about leaving Roarton?" she asks. 

Jem has to stop and think, because it's such a simple question, and yet, like so much about the future, she really has no idea. She isn’t like Kieren, who's suffocating slowly in a town far too small to contain all his dreams. It isn’t like she's never thought about leaving, because a town as remote and secluded as Roarton is rigid and inflexible, slow to change and set in ways that have lasted far longer than she's been alive.

"I don't know," Jem says, "I guess I've never really thought about it." She rolls over on her side to face Lisa on the grass. "Have you?"

"Sometimes I think about all the things there are to see outside of Roarton, all the things we could do," Lisa says, her eyes bright. Jem understands. Sometimes she wants to escape the life she’s always known and see everything she's only ever heard about – all the cities bustling with people, unfamiliar sights and sounds and smells. 

"But Roarton's home, you know?” Lisa says, “I don't know if I could ever really leave.” The wistfulness in her voice makes Jem's heart ache. 

"Well," Jem says, raising a fist, "here's to figuring it out together."

Lisa huffs a laugh, and taps it gently with her own. "At this rate we'll be here figuring it out until we're eighty."

"It'll be a fun ride, at least," Jem says, leaning back into the grass. "Now, tell me that story again. The one you never finished last week?"

 

Later, Lisa walks Jem home, ignoring all protests. "I'll be fine, Jem," she says, "it's Roarton. I've done it loads of times." 

Maybe it's the late hour, the fact that she has to fight to keep her eyes open, but Jem finds herself suddenly, recklessly saying, "Just be safe. I don't know what I would do without you." It comes out quiet and too honest, lingering in the night air, but Jem can't find herself to regret it when Lisa's eyes soften.  
Lisa says, “I’ve managed this far. Roarton’s hardly swarming with crime.” Despite her light words she sweeps Jem into a hug – her hair tickles Jem’s cheek and it’s warm and tight and perfect. Jem buries her face into Lisa’s shoulder and only lets go when Lisa pulls away. 

"Go on then," Lisa says, pushing Jem back towards the tree. She doesn't leave until Jem's slid back through the window and locked the latch. When Jem slips back into bed, the covers are cold, her body heat long since dissipated, but she falls asleep immediately. 

 

The thing about being best friends in a town like Roarton means that most of Jem’s stories, and all of the best ones (the disastrous gerbil incident and the time with Henry Lonsdale and the letter never to be mentioned), involve Lisa. Jem’s known Lisa most of her life – it’s been so long she almost doesn’t remember how they met. There’s a memory, faded like a photograph left out in the sun, of a tiny, curly-haired girl on the playground, giggling as she runs away. Jem doesn’t mind – she has others tucked away. 

She only knows that Lisa’s worked her way into every part of Jem’s life and Jem can’t imagine life without her. Sometimes, she looks at Lisa and thinks fiercely that whoever Lisa finds in the future had better realize just how special she is. Jem never follows that thought further, never even considers that person could be herself, so she chalks it up to friendly protectiveness. After all, Lisa is reckless and impatient, rushes into everything without ever thinking of the consequences. And if she won’t watch her own back properly, then it’s up to Jem to do that for her. 

 

Jem doesn’t realize until spring. The air still smells like damp earth, but the sun is still shining bright and warm. Lisa’s walking in front of her, filling the silence with stories. She’s so busy sketching out a scene with her hands that she nearly trips straight into a puddle. Jem rolls her eyes, and steers Lisa out of the way. 

Lisa shoots her a grateful smile, and continues chattering on, but all of the words fade away as Jem’s world narrows down to a single point. She can’t look away from the way the light glints off Lisa’s hair and traces a line down her neck. Jem has the sudden urge to press a kiss in the crook of Lisa’s collarbone, inhale the flowery scent of her perfume. She wants to kiss Lisa and feel lips curve into a smile beneath her own and – oh.

It’s such an ordinary scene, not so different from all the other moments in their relationship, but maybe her love for Lisa is quiet and ordinary, has always been waiting in the background for as long as she can remember, and it isn’t until now that Jem has finally noticed. The knowledge feels right, like the last piece of a puzzle finally sliding into place. 

Jem looks up, finally realizing that the two of them are stopped in the middle of the street. Something must show on her face because Lisa is scrutinizing her intensely. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Jem says, giving Lisa her most reassuring smile. “No, quite the opposite, actually.” 

 

Kieren notices her change in attitude first. Of course he does – he’s always been able to see right through her. He’s sketching in a notepad on the couch, and he looks up when she drops her bag onto the floor. 

“I thought you were staying out later," he says.

"I was planning to," Jem says, throwing herself down next to him, "but Lisa's mom needed her, so now I'm back."

Kieren closes his sketchbook and sets it aside. “You know you can tell me anything,” he says, voice deliberately casual.

“I know,” Jem says. And she does, because this is Kieren, who knows her almost better than she knows herself. She knows he’ll understand this – she and Kieren are different in so many ways, but they’re almost too similar with love. “There’s just nothing to say yet.”

Kieren nods, and lets it go. “Well, since you’re home already, it means you won’t miss your bedtime story tonight.” His lips are quirked up in that half-smile he only wears when he’s especially proud of himself. He had stopped reading bedtime stories with her by the time she had stopped believing in monsters under the bed and didn’t need the distraction anymore. 

"Of course,” Jem says, shooting him her most unimpressed look, “as if I'd let you pick. It’s my turn and we're reading something good this time. Something with action, not one of those artsy ones you always go for."

He shoves her gently with his shoulder. "You just don't know quality literature when you see it.”  
Jem shakes her head, and gets up. Kieren already has his sketchbook out again, and she catches a glimpse of a familiar silhouette outlined in pencil. She smirks at him, and a blush creeps up his neck. 

 

The next time Jem sees Lisa it’s strange. Jem feels awkward and tense in a way that she’s never been, and it’s obvious enough that Lisa calls her out on it. 

“You’ve been off all day,” Lisa says, “is it your parents again? Is there anything you want me to do to help?”

Jem's heart stops in her throat. There are moments in which one phrase, one breath, could change everything, and this is one of them. Once said, she can’t take this back, and what if Lisa doesn’t feel the same? What if their friendship is ruined forever? Jem knows that Lisa would never stop being her friend, not because of this, but this would become the inescapable cloud hovering over their relationship, and it would just as bad as never speaking to Lisa again. But the same time, Jem can’t live hiding herself like this. She’s never been the best at dealing with the pressure that comes with secrets. 

"Actually,” Jem says, the words tripping over each other on their way out, “I kind of really love you.”

Lisa blinks in surprise, then a smile breaks across her face. “Took you long enough,” she says, “I was starting to wonder if I should say something first.”

Jem feels relieved, light and giddy, but she can’t resist shooting back. “It’s nice to know I can always count on you to make things easier for me.” Whatever else Jem is about to say is lost when Lisa gently cups her cheek, a thumb gently brushing the corner of her mouth. 

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” Lisa asks.

Jem’s heart is pounding out of her chest. She’s barely nodded until Lisa is kissing her. It’s just as soft as Jem imagined when Lisa’s lips glide gently over hers, and Jem’s eyes flutter shut. 

Lisa pulls back far too soon, but she doesn’t step away and Jem can still feel the warmth from Lisa’s breath against her cheek. Jem leans in for a last brush of their lips, to prove to herself that this is real, and Lisa is still there, solid and steady, waiting for her when she does. 

There’s so much more she wants to say, Jem thinks as she laces her fingers with Lisa’s, but it’s okay. They have time.


End file.
